


Damn Eyes

by VoltageStone



Series: Jori Collections 2018/2019 [4]
Category: Victorious
Genre: F/F, Jori (Victorious), POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 03:10:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14440191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoltageStone/pseuds/VoltageStone
Summary: "It isn't a party you want to be seen at. But, perhaps, it's a party you need."





	Damn Eyes

The television never seemed so _boring_ until now, when you find yourself beginning to blink languidly at the screen. Beside you there's irritable smacking as she continues to devour her eggplant whole, earning a firm arch of a brow. She blinks back at your staring diligently. "What?" You decide not to answer, instead dragging your attention to the most dull show you'll ever watch: _A House's Kitchen Nightmare_ ; you swear it would've been better as a cooking show, not some psychological horror drawl. The end of the odd snack is then tossed towards the coffee table (missing the bowl completely) before your sister groans quietly. "Tori," she continues anyway, "what party are you going to again?"

"You're not invited," you reply blandly.

Trina scoffs and rolls her eyes. "I know and I don't _want_ to go. See? But I'm asking where you're going."

"Well," you begin, "it's not far. It's one of John Stavor's parties. You know, the blond?"

"Oh yeah... Better watch out, there. I went to one of their parties when I was a sophomore when his brother was a senior."

Intrigued - since your sister's party life is _definitely_ more interesting than some man cradling himself in a corner (for the fiftieth time within the episode) - you ask, "What do you mean?" Trina pauses, watching you with an all too familiar gaze. She wants something. And, not a moment later, she points towards the large bowl of chips on the coffee table. "You know," your hand jerks the bowl into her greedy hands, "you could've gotten that yourself. Anyway, _what_?"

"They have a bunch of vodka and shit like that -" you hate how that sounds, _especially_ since nobody else told you that you had the possibility of getting drunk "- and the cops were called while I was there... I had to run home because it was Dad."

"Wait, _you_ were at that party?" You give a harsh laugh, vividly recalling how the two of you both sat down at the table, receiving a firm retelling of _his_ night with the Stavor party. Of course, her furious foot-tapping was never explained until now. Trina nods, giving a meek - if not, somewhat proud - smile. "So, will I have to tonight?"

Trina shrugs. "Dunno. They don't get called every year. But I'd just leave a bit early on, just in case." She then looks at her bowl of chips, her brows furrowing. "Tori, go get me some popcorn."

"I'm not your servant," you grumble. "And besides, Beck will be here any minute, _and_ I can't start making something when you expect _me_ to give it to you on a silver platter."

She ignores your last comment. "Oh?" You grimace with annoyance as she wiggles her eyebrows - you know exactly what Trina's getting at. "You're going with Beck now? Got Jade out of the way and-"

"Trina, no. It's not like that," you snap, feeling something hot and rancid bubble at the base of your gut. It isn't the first time, either, that you've felt this way. And it wouldn't be the last. "He just offered to pick me up," you continue, "so I took him up on it. Nothing up with a friend bringing a friend over, right?" You hate how she looks at you with a hitched smirk across her lips, unconvinced. "Trina?" you ask warningly.

Your sister only shrugs, taking a chip to her nose. "Oh nothing, nothing..." she murmurs mischievously, chewing on the same chip. "Just wondering if he's your boyfriend or boy-toy."

"He is just a _friend_ ," you growl. The doorbell rings, and you don't know if it's your free ticket to get out of the conversation, or a free ticket to a conversation for another time. You start from the couch, patting your simple shirt and jeans before quickly sliding into heels. You picture Trina still sporting her smile as you stride towards the door; when you turn around, she is. "I'll be back later."

"Right. _Don't_ do anything stupid, Tori." You, believe it or not, take your sister's advice to heart. "And use protection if you have to." A glare firmly closes the distance between you and the damn wink she gives you; _that_ advice isn't taken. At least, you think she isn't talking about a shield against a coarse stare of a jaded dragon. The front door opens and Beck stands still in the center, watching the both of you. Though your eyes still lay on your sister, increasingly growing harder and steely with her hand motions. You hope Beck doesn't see, with his eyes curiously at you.

"Ready to go?" comes softly as a whispered "Trojan" slides out.

Your only mode of replying is a firm, "Yes. Trina, I'll be home _before_ midnight."

"Uh huh."

Your eyes roll before they glance up towards Beck. "I'm ready," you mumble. Sliding out passed him, you walk towards his car, the front door closing in the distance. You're already buckled to the seat when he slides in, starting the engine. The car is quiet other than the soft rock that streams out of the radio, Beck rolling out of the driveway. You're too focused on formulating a plan, gathering all of the confidence you can. What's mustered isn't much, but by the time he reaches the nearest stop-sign, you already feel the butterflies swishing in your gut dissipating.

Clearing your throat, you ask, "So, wait, what type of party is this?"

There's a snort beside you, and you find Beck's soft grin in the mirror. Your gut drops, and you'd rather enjoy that smile as you had before - it makes everything less complicated. "Well...I guess you weren't here for most of sophomore year, but you were here when he had a party last year."

"I didn't go, remember? I was sick." With a flu that erased all memory of the weekend besides reruns on _Nickelodeon_ and crackers.

"Oh, right. I forgot." He pauses to look down the street, seeing no traffic other than one Sudan. "It has some cool stuff there. Crappy drinks and _maybe_ some weed...not really into smoking though. Anyway, it's not far, only a few streets down. In any case, if I can't get you back home, you could walk."

You bob your head as there isn't any response you could find, other than the _cool_ you seemed to have pulled out of your ass. "Is there anybody we know going? I know Cat, Andre and Robbie are but..." You stand there, with your anxiety, hoping that your gathered nerve isn't severed.

"Uh... Dunno. I mean, people like Eli, Sinjin and Burf, probably." And your nerves - both confident and anxious - remain intact; you barely hear another name dance on his tongue, attempting to knock over the barrier of teeth and press through his lips. It doesn't come, and you don't expect it to. After all, even though they lasted a while after their reunion, the two names severed their ties horribly. You feel like you're to blame, especially since your name danced silently, unspoken, around them - not that _you_ , directly, had anything to do with it.

"Cool," you pull out of your ass once again.

It's only a matter of minutes when the house is right in front of you, your heels planted firmly into the sidewalk. You feel his stare glazing across your make-up - dark lipstick and dark shadows ghosting your eyelids - and you feel guilty: It's not for him.

You look around and find lawn chairs scattered across the grass, students lounging on them with some solo cups - not red but blue, yellow, green and some blacks, which you find interesting. Then there are loud calls that fight against the aggravating music, the beat pulsing through the doors and open windows. The neighbors around are somewhat lucky, the Stavor property secluded to the corner with a large grass area hugging all sides. Though, you doubt that stops them from calling your dad over. You see the faint streams of light flickering through the bottom windows - as the sun sets, you know they'll come in better view - as your steps follow Beck's to the front porch.

There's too many faces you've seen at school, whether they briefly spoke to you, bumped into you or flat out only saw you. It's then when you realize two things: It isn't a party you want to be seen at. But, perhaps, it's a party that you need.

The music is too loud as soon as you step through the door, though nobody seems to mind. You look up at Beck instinctively, silently asking _what do I do_ _?_

His eyes scour across the room before he dips to your ear, explaining, "Andre said he'd be by the pool... I don't know where Robbie or Cat is though." You nod, since the words successfully fought the music away with lips so close to your ear.

"Pool?" you say to Beck. While you're not sure he actually _heard_ you - the thumping bass made sure of that - he points over the crowd, towards a back hallway. And so, you stumble after him, swearing quietly at the rouge solo cup. You keep your eyes peeled for more, darting across the floor and then to the people around. By the time you pass a few rooms, your confidence starts to falter. The house is big - _too_ big if people wanted to be found. And then, what if this whole party was a waste, and she wasn't here?

You swallow that thought, your inner dialogue determined to believe that she _must_ be here. After all, the whole school - besides the majority of the freshmen - was here, right?

Beck says something as you reach the end of the hall, but the music carries his words away. Though, you get the message soon enough: "Watch for the stairs." You stagger down a step or two, not expecting the drop into another room, its windows revealing a nice backyard with a large pool. You figure that this house was _made_ for partying. At that moment, when you begin to cross the room, your eyes scan the tables and people around the foosball tables. You feel your heart skip a beat, then drop to your ankles.

She's here.

She's playing foosball, in fact.

You stop moving, only staring as Beck continues to stride forward. Confidence - the small amount you managed to snatch - sinks to the floor, flooding away to leave you suddenly petrified. She's beautiful normally, it's hard to deny that, but the smirk hitched across her lips puts your make-up to shame. _Why did I fucking put on any to begin with? To_ impress _her?_ you think, a sudden bloom of red crossing your cheeks. A wish is made then, and is immediately disregarded the next moment.

She looks at you with those damn eyes - eyes that you feel can always see right through you.

Not immediately, you find, but they pull towards you. She stares, stricken, with some drink - vodka, maybe - spilling to the floor from her grip. It dribbles like the small, white ball does towards the goal. At the cheer of the other team, she turns towards them, a dumbfounded expression planted across blood-red lips and pale foundation.

You blitz towards the back door before anything else, vaguely hearing her sour words.

It's funny how smooth her words flood over the music, accompanied by the boy's excited hollers; Jade West shouldn't ever loose, you know.

Which is why you're going to drink some, gain what you lost, since you don't want to either.

**. . .**

And...this is the fourth foosball round you've lost in a row. It's also the _only_ four you've played. Andre chirps from the other side, chortling while Robbie sighs beside you. The music is calmer now - somebody closed the door leading to the room with the windows - and instead replaced by a slur of casual conversations. "Alright," you throw your hands in defeat, "I'm done. I'm just going to get another drink."

"You'll have to slow down on them sometime, Tori," Beck chuckles, his blue figures shifting the ball in between your red men.

You only shrug, promising to be back in a few minutes. Everybody doubts - even you - that a few minutes would be the reality. Nevertheless, they only shrug, Andre and Beck asking you to hand them a drink when you get back. You make a mental note of it, though once you're past the closed door and into the thumping music, it slips away. In fact, you completely loose your train of thought, wondering why you had even left the foosball tables.

 _A drink_ , you conclude minutes later, starting away from the dancefloor you seemed to have gravitated towards. When you reach the kitchen, you find the same long table, clad with a plastic sheet and previously a harvest of drinks and snacks, nearly dry of any drinks. Though, as you fish a Coke from the iced tub, you don't mind - perhaps drinking too much _isn't_ the best idea. Andre and Beck come to mind, though their drinks - you figure - can wait. They had plenty of drinks in their solo cups anyway.

You shuffle pass a few in a corner, and then you make it out to the front yard. Sipping the soda, you watch the multiple activities across the lawn: boys tackling with a ball in their protective grasps, girls giggling and cheering the same boys on while a band of others settle in the lawn chairs.

And so is she.

Jade lays in her seat, sipping on some cup - one different from before. Her eyes - her _damn eyes_ , as you remind yourself - lands on you, a brow quirking. You take that as a cue. With your heels and the soggy grass, you feel an odd sense of accomplishment for marching over. As you near her, you slow, careful with the brawling match with the football.

"Hey," you murmur gently. Jade only nods, gulping before allowing a great wince.

"Hey," she grumbles.

You take a seat at the foot of the long chair, glancing along the sidewalk. "So how long have you been here for?"

She shrugs. "Three hours? I don't know." You hear it in her voice, the hesitance. Before taking another sip of Coke, you lick your lips, reassuring your small quest. Well, the quest that pounds your heart against your ribs, anyway.

"So, Jade?"

Her eyes flick towards yours, unblinking. You see her struggle, especially when she looked at you the same exact way before-

"What?"

"Uh..." _Come on brain, think for fuck's sake_ _._ "I-I need to ask you a question...please. We need to talk." _Weak, that was weak._

She sighs, draining the rest of her cup in a second flat. Just as Jade purses her lips to respond, you hear a holler; "Hey Jade!" Eli bellows from the window. "You have got to check this shit out!"

Her eyes briefly dart towards you, the cup abandoned to the side of the chair. "Well, looks like Eli needs me. Later, Vega." You stutter over your words, nearly choking on your own tongue.

 _Shit_ , you think, _shit._

Perhaps you need another drink - or two.

Maybe you could be a friend and drink Beck and Andre's drink for them. After that, then you could do whatever you wanted without those damn eyes getting in your way.

**. . .**

The sun has already fallen, and so has your abstinence.

Your limbs are tight with warmth, an exciting buzz igniting your system further than you could've imagined. And, of course, you still dance to the beat, in sync with the rest of the raving bodies. You know there are eyes on you, hands that want to plant themselves on your hips. Every time that _does_ happen, you slink away, shying towards the sidelines. Those hands find other hips, barely fazed by the let down.

Your eyes - as other gazes feed on your motions - drift across the room, scouring for any sign of her, of Jade. You know she's been avoiding you, and with your lips prickling in remembrance, you know why.

But _you_ weren't the one who did it: She was.

Yet, anything that happens here is your fault too, and you don't mind. Hell, you don't mind it when you cease your dancing, staggering towards the side tables. Well, no, you _do_ mind it, especially since you knock into a couple on a chair. Blinking, you realize that it isn't, in fact, a couple, but Cat with some guy. Without thinking, you tap her shoulder. The girl jolts, snapping her attention towards you. She gives a meek smile. "Hey Tori! This is James!" she hollers over the music, the blond underneath her blinking awake.

"Why were you sleeping _there_?" you ask since a completely different image was playing in your head.

"What?"

"Why were you sleeping there!?"

Cat pauses, her brows furrowed. " _What?!_ " Rolling your eyes, you shake your head: There's no use, you doubt that you'd get an answer anyhow.

Instead, you yell, "Where's Jade?!"

The girl nods slowly, and you assume she read your lips rather than heard your words. "Umm..." she drawls, turning towards the several doorways, "upstairs I think. She got picked and then went to one of the clash-rooms a bile ego!" You frown - surely you didn't hear that right.

"What?!"

"Upstairs to one of the bathrooms! She was sick!" You nod before giving a quick thanks, shrugging your way towards the stairs. The music, the further up the stairs you go, recedes, eventually unable to blast your eardrums from your head. There's many people up here, lounging around, having sluggish conversations. You hope that Jade is up here - no, you _know_ she is. _She has to be_ , you think. Maybe you could start opening the doors for the bathroom.

A door on the left leads to an empty room. "Jade?" There's no answer. The door is shut before you move on to the next door.

It's the bathroom, but Jade isn't in there. "Sorry," you grunt, closing the door at the sight of two boys in the bathtub. You didn't want to ask why they were bathing with Cheetos.

Another door is opened, and you glance inside. "Oh, sorry. I'm trying to find a friend," you explain to the very disturbed couple. After that clicks, you start with the other side after analyzing a very detailed painting of a desert.

The next door - just beside the painting - only led to the closet, stocked with towels and other supplies. "Jade? You in here?"

"You're a fuckin' idiot, Vega." You smile at the voice behind you. When you turn around at the heel, you find her standing there, a drink at hand. She looks a lot more sober, though with the drag in her words, you know she had some drinks.

"Hey!" you giggle. "I've been tryin' to find you... Quick, we talk now." Before she says anything in protest, you yank at her wrist, pulling her to the first room you found. Jade snarls once her drink is tossed from her hand, swearing violently at the lost Sprite.

The door shuts with a harsh _smack_ , leaving the two of you in a dark room, the curtains broken. Jade grumbles for her drink, eyes hard on yours. "Can I _go_?"

"No. I said we talk _now_." She pauses at your firm words, eyes drifting from your impressive stature - it wasn't actually but your stream of self-confidence said otherwise. Once you feel that Jade won't bust past you and walk away, you begin. "So how have you been?"

That is definitely _not_ the question you wanted to ask.

Jade only stares at you, jaw working out the answer. "Fine..." The room is left with a silence between the two of you, the girl at the foot of the bed thumbing over the covers while you drum your fingers against the door. You feel the air thicken between you and Jade, lathering adhesive before stacking bricks to form a bulky wall. Your throat is dry when you swallow it, and you're suddenly nervous to talk to her - again. Maybe it's because you've sobered up some when attempting to find her, or maybe it's those _damn_ eyes as they watch you, unamused. You think to yourself, how stupid could you be to drag somebody in here, then ask, _"So how have you been?"_

You figure you might as well have asked her the weather. At least then you could talk about the clouds.

But, you find that your mouth isn't quite sober, and wishes to dig yourself a deeper hole. "Cool..." _I'm such an idiot_ , is what you mean.

"Okay," Jade's voice spits, "if you're just going to stand there like an _actual_ nightstand, I'm going to go." Your thoughts are reeling as you attempt to process the snarky prod when you feel her reach for the door. The light of the hall creaks into the room in a small slit before you snatch her wrist.

"Why did you kiss me?" you blurt out, finding your voice lower than you expected. Though you know she heard you, especially since Jade hasn't stopped the door from creeping back to a close. She turns over her shoulder, her sharp gaze digging into your own. Perhaps she sees the fire that the vodka had burned in your throat. Or, maybe she just sees your need for her to stay. Whatever the case may be, your grip falters as her hand relaxes.

When she stares at you, there's a conflict in her eyes, one that involves plucking you away piece by piece. "Jade?"

"Why do you care?" she scowls lightly. You raise a brow. After all, you looked through a closet to find her. "And why should _I_ even care? It's not like you wanted it anyway!"

There's a pang in your chest, creasing your brows into a frown; had she forgotten how you brushed your hands against her hips? Moved with the kiss as she pulled away? Sure, you never expected for her lips to connect so briefly next to a mop and a bucket; but had she forgotten how she barely left you time to react before she was but a shadow behind a closing door? "T-that isn't true," you scoff.

"Oh really?" The piercing glints in the streetlight escaping from the lopsided curtains as her brow arches. "You're going to tell me that when you've been having your hands all over my ex for the past few weeks?" You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth as that's the furthest from the truth. "And then you come to the party with _him_ too, right? Y-" Her rant halts at your eye-roll, something that you didn't mean to do. Though, it may have been just the gutsy, drunken move that you need. You see the gears working in her eyes to come up with a clever retort, and you don't want to give the chance.

You snake a hand behind her neck and press your lips hard against hers.

Jade is stock still, apparently unable to process the feel of your scalding lips against her own, soft ones - you're gleefully reminded of the kiss in the closet. When you part from her lock, it takes a moment for you to catch up. One moment, you have Jade against the door. The next, your back is against a perpendicular wall, hand gripping the desk as Jade continues to loose herself at the taste of your lips. It's amazing, really, of how sober she seemed - or barely tipsy - when she was accusing you of getting hands-y with her ex. You soon realize, with her tongue making its own entrance, that she's anything but; Jade has been marinating in alcohol for the past few hours, and you doubt that Sprite was the only thing in that solo cup.

When she breaks away, you feel disheartened, your breaths slow though heavy.

"What about Beck?" slips out of your mouth, your intoxicated brain unable to protest. Jade gives a sly grin, leaning forward.

The door creeps open before two figures shuffle into the bedroom. Both pause in unison, staring at you within Jade's terse grasp, against the wall. Speaking of the devil - Beck gawks at you with an unfathomable expression, some girl close to his chest. "What's goin' on here?"

His words aren't as slugged as the majority, as are his eyes and stature. "Nothing. Come on, Vega," Jade growls coolly, tugging your wrist along. You can only reply with a meek smile, knowing the upcoming conversation on Monday, awkward as it will surely be. Your steps swerve around the swarm of teenagers, then a hoard of college students - who may have come an hour ago - before a tinkle of Northridge girls. You expect that the more people come, the more you should leave.

Which is what Jade appears to have in mind.

"W-wait... What's the, the time?" She halts as you regain your balance in the grass, flipping through your phone. "Oh, it's only- Wait, it's _eleven-thirteen_?" Jade frowns, looking over your shoulder.

"It's the thirteenth, you dipshit." You shrink uncomfortably, looking at your phone.

"Oh yeah..."

" _And_ ," she snatches the device from your grasp, "it's actually ten-forty." You nod slowly, parting your lips to ask another question. "We're going to your house." Your jaw snaps shut. As the large, corner-house dips into the background, you begin to realize just how cold it is, how you rub your forearms as they prickle. You wish you would've, at _least,_ put on a long sleeve. As she continues forward, her breath steaming the air, you swallow; her eyes briefly flash towards you, making sure that you're not stumbling like a elephant with huge, floppy ears - whatever its name was. Her eyes, even for that brief moment, were still stern.

 _Damn fucking eyes._ Your heart swims nonetheless.

And as your heart swims, you feel your lips buzzing, intoxicated with whatever drug her hunger gave you - lust, maybe, but you hope there's more than that. At that thought, you frown. "Jade?"

"Hmmm?"

"You never answered my question."

Her boots stomp the ground once the statement leaves you. "What do you mean?" You stop with her, folding your arms.

"Why did you kiss me? In the closet..." Jade studies you for a moment, chewing at the inside of her cheek. Her stare flicks across your body in thought, reminding you as of why you shoved her in the janitor's closet anyway. First, you wanted to know why the _hell_ she was staring with those damn eyes. Then, she tugged you into a fiery kiss, one of which lead to more questions, and more silence.

Until tonight, that is.

Your attention jerks once a surprising - though comforting - warmth coats your shoulders. Jade now stands beside you without her leather jacket. It envelops you quite well, sealing your vulnerable skin from the air's chilly nip.

"'Cause I wanted to."

It's not the answer you desperately want, but its accepted anyhow. After all, you can barely focus when her hand enraptures yours, guiding you along the sidewalks towards your house, streets down.

**. . .**

Her lips are hard against your neck, then against your jaw. You smile anyway, feeling a much better, _warmer_ buzz cradling your system. Your lips capture hers heatedly before steps shuffle to your bedroom door. It languidly opens with a soft creak, officially announcing your arrival to the bedroom. Jade shoves you against the door, wrists pinned as the entryway clicks; there is no way in hell you'd want the door open - not even a little.

You feel her smirk against crook of your neck as the two of you shuffle to the sheets. There's a tug at your shirt, one of haste and pure desire. Your hands eagerly shed the article of clothing with nearly more enthusiasm than tearing off the heels. Once goosebumps erupt throughout your skin, you shove Jade to the bed, straddling her perfect form not a second later. You greedily press your lips against her neck, nails clawing at your bra.

It's easily discarded, forgotten all together before it lands on the floor. Your hands mischievously run at the rim of her own shirt, teasing the warming skin from underneath. Her clothes, much like yours, are thrown away, not to be thought about. As you continue to curl your nails around her shoulders, you feel a tricky hand snapping a belt, then a button. You gasp as her hand dives into your pants. Jade is meticulous, lips against your shoulder as she curls - or pumps, you really haven't a clue - her fingers in between your legs.

There's a shaken breath before you are dawned with a wretched idea; it first started with a quick, blind thought of Trina, and how she taunted you earlier. As the warmth between your legs grow to a molten flame, your breaths become soft mews, then to moans that scratch your throat. Minutes later, you vaguely hear the slam of a door down the hall, but you don't care: You're too lost in the oblivion Jade has sent you down, and, frankly, you feel that your sister's head underneath a pillow is what she deserved.

When you shudder in Jade's grasp, an icy gaze wonders back to you. Lips curl into a mischievous smile before the tables turn, your name then called to the walls of your small room.

**. . .**

Your shitty blinds are the first thing you see in the morning, the sun peering in with it's rising gesture splitting your irises. As you sit up, you feel your brain lag behind before thumping against your skull. _Fuck_ , you think since there's a paper due Monday - tomorrow, actually - and you're hungover. But you can't be bothered at the moment.

So, you just flop right back onto your pillows, watching your shitty fan circle about, hanging from your shitty ceiling and your shitty paint-job.

Perhaps your room isn't shit, and it's just that you feel like it. You close your eyes at the thought, basking in the sun's annoying rays.

No, no: even if you didn't go to the party, you'd still think your room was shit.

 _The party_ , you think as your eyes slowly open. You peer to your side with a soft smile. Her back slinks to the depths of the covers, and even with the shitty blinds blocking barely any sun, you think it's one of the best things you've seen. Your eyes follow the long bruises, remembering each one vividly; each was a landmark, settled in between quiet, spoken words or passionate exploring. You don't even realize how much time goes by before you startle, Jade suddenly shifting awake. It takes time for her to stretch, and then twist around. Her eyes land on yours, barely awake.

"Morning..." is all you come up with. She only groans quietly, eyes dipping down your chest; the sheets really aren't doing much to cover.

"When did we go to sleep?" Her voice comes out in a husk tone, honey on gravel. You only shrug, earning a soft yawn. Another moment of silence goes by before she asks, "What time is it now?"

You raise your head to the barest amount, eyes veering towards your alarm clock. "Seven fifty-three," you answer. Jade only bobs her head, eyes closing to a scowl.

"When did we leave the party?"

"Dunno... I can't remember"

She scoffs at your answer, though doesn't say anything else. You close your eyes too, concentrating on the light fingers dancing along your hips, retracing the lustful touches from the night before. You hear her voice after a while, bringing you from the cusp of sleeping. A hum is an answer, beckoning to ask again - only, it wasn't a question. "Get me coffee."

One eye opens, and you find Jade staring with a tired gaze. You close it again before smiling lightly. "No."

"No?"

"Nope."

She grumbles lightly before asking, "Why the hell not?"

"I wanna sleep." You hear shuffling and more grumbling before you feel your body roll over, trapping her arm. She makes a small whine - or growl, it could be either one - of protest. "Nope. You're staying here, with me."

Jade fidgets, testing her advantages. "You're an asshole. I just want a cup of Joe." Nevertheless, she relaxes, her other arm settling over your waist. You feel her body pressed against yours, and you decide then that her warmth is better than any blanket. Though, it doesn't stop her from raising the sheets to your shoulders, giving a more considerable amount of modesty. The fan blurs above your bed, the sun now unable to reach your eyes. "Are your parents home?"

You inhale the question, letting it bake in your head. "My dad isn't," you exhale, adding, "but my mom should be. She would've gotten from work _really_ late though."

"Okay..." There's another lengthy pause, her body melding into yours. You feel her soft exhales wash against your neck, a warm breeze. Jade clears her throat in thought, then murmuring, "So...how would they feel if they knew I slept over?"

As you ponder the question, you realize a few things. For one, your immediate response would be indifference, but then again, neither are a huge fan of the girl naked against your own bare body, _nor_ would they be enthused to learn that she was naked, and so were you. Then there were the wave of questions, a new quirk you think you've discovered about Jade, along with the intricate games she'd play as a kid and the small, inked heart she wore in her sleeve.

Once you realize an extended amount of time has passed, you answer in a soft tone, "My mom wouldn't mind, or my dad, I think... Just, leave out the sex part." She grumbles against your neck in reply.

You practically feel the sun's rays lift from your forehead, rising to the roof of the house before Jade asks her final question. "Tori?" Your heart pings at that, and you twist until your eyes meet. Pale emeralds lower to your chest in thought, drifting towards the sheets and then the walls. You finger traces her jaw, snapping her eyes back to you. "Why did you come to me at the party?"

You swallow, realizing the depth of the question. It's a simple answer, but your gut twist anxiously: You don't know what it could lead to. "I- I uh... I wanted to." You breathe in, filling your lungs with more of an answer. By the next breath, it comes out in one: "When you kissed me...in the closet...I didn't really know what to do - at that moment, anyway. I, I wanted to kiss you too but, I don't know. Kinda had me off-guard there." Jade blushes - just barely - at the memory of it, when she pulled you close, lips briefly connecting before she dove deeper. "But, I wanted to talk to you after and you kept...avoiding me." You watch her gaze shift, an inkling of guilt washing over her gaze. "So," you continued, "I figured the party was a good bet."

A simple answer indeed.

And she digests it, slowly, allowing you to observe the same concentrated brow she wore when playing foosball. You begin to think of all the things she could be contemplating at the moment, beginning at what you'd just said, just admitted. Maybe she would return those same feelings - whatever the bastards were. Maybe she'd just ask for a quick morning-fuck but without the feelings. Or _maybe_ she hated the sex last night, and was about to demolish the possible things - you have no clue - that could come from this.

Instead of any of those options, she just kisses you, briefly on the lips; it reminds you of the very first one. You wouldn't have believed the hesitation in it if it weren't for the first. You return it with more intensity, intensity - which - didn't par with those of the night prior. Your head was still throbbing, after all.

Jade then nestles into your chest, sighing softly. "Hold me."

You oblige, enjoying the feel of her skin against yours far too much than you originally thought. You'd assumed that she was more tough. You're glad you're wrong though, as you hold her, dipping into a far better sleep.


End file.
